


Most Myself With You

by Survivor_reborn



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, mature for later chapters, set between civil war and infinity war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 10:33:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17765138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Survivor_reborn/pseuds/Survivor_reborn
Summary: Natasha goes to find the one person she knows she can trust the most. They've been fugitives before, after all.





	1. The Life and Death of Captain America

It’s a few weeks before she resurfaces again. She’d been wondering where to go; Bali, perhaps, for a meditative retreat, to empty her mind of what had just transpired. London, to get lost among anonymous crowds and wear another self. Instead, she found herself in Brooklyn, pulling a thread she might regret unravelling.

‘What are you hoping to find?’ Sam Wilson’s voice is clear on the other end of the phone. ‘Nat, as your friend, I dunno if you wanna go looking for what doesn’t want to be found.’ Friend. She’d had those, back in the Red Room. They were gone now. She smiles, tears in her eyes that he can’t see.

‘He’s all alone,’ she says, softly. ‘You know him, Sam. He’ll wallow in guilt.’

‘And you think you’re responsible for him?’ The question makes her pause.

‘No. He’s a grown man. But he is someone I care about, he was there for me when I needed him, and I don’t want him to be alone.’

‘Fair enough. Let me know if you find him, okay?’

‘Okay.’

So she stands here. What if I’m just chasing a ghost story? She’s seen the papers, the social media, the gossip. All the hatred for a man who would have died for them, over and again. Nobody answers the door when she knocks. She walks away.

Natasha can’t bring herself to leave New York, not yet. She hangs out in coffee shops, at the theatre, even the Smithsonian, hoping for a glimpse, and finds nothing. So she goes the only place she has left.

The army base is much like she remembers it. Spare and utilitarian, nothing special to the untrained eye.

‘Where are you?’ she whispers into the air, imagines she can speak him into existence. ‘C’mon Rogers…’ She finds the ruined bunker and swallows a lump in her throat. ‘I owe you,’ she murmurs, fidgeting with her hands. She curls them into fists, and stands stubbornly.

‘No, you don’t.’ She turns, stunned that it worked.

‘You look different,’ she says, smiling. ‘Sharon like facial hair?’ They embrace, and the genuine warmth in it makes Natasha feel a little more like her true self, whoever that might be.

‘Maybe?’ He shrugs. ‘Wouldn’t know, it didn’t work out.’

‘I put so much work in, Cap.’ He laughs.

‘I’m just Steve, Nat. Captain America is dead.’ She rolls her eyes.

‘Don’t be so dramatic.’

‘I’m not!’ He smiles. ‘I’m on the run now. You know what happened last time.’ He looks to the ruined bunker, solemn. ‘Man, we could’ve died.’ He reaches for her hand, and she doesn’t pull away. It’s a comfort, after everything. Trust, so difficult to build, was there between them like an unbroken thread, bringing them back to one another.

‘You should go home,’ she says.

‘I don’t even know where home is anymore. Nowhere’s safe.’

‘I guess not. But home is what you make of it, right? Come on, we need somewhere with WiFi so we can make a plan. If you’re a fugitive, you need to be convincing. Toughen up, Rogers.’ He laughs, his face cracking into a broad smile as they walk away from where Captain America was born, and where he died.

*****

‘You’re a fugitive too, you know,’ he says, when they have returned to Nat’s car. ‘That red hair, anyone would recognize you.’

‘Oh I’m sorry, Steve. I’ll just call my hairstylist and have him dye it. Where am I gonna find one who’s not gonna recognise me?’

‘No idea. Scotland?’ It’s half a jest, but she likes the idea.

‘Well, why not? All that history. Nobody’s going to notice a young couple on vacation.’

‘Couple?’ Steve raises a brow, the corner of his mouth almost lifting into a smug smile.

‘It makes sense, shush.’

When they arrive, Natasha books them a hotel room, and Steve goes exploring. He finds a street vendor selling fresh flowers, she boots up her laptop and looks for the best hairstylist in the city. She’s gone before Steve returns with supplies, and he smiles and shakes his head in exasperation before setting the flowers in a pretty vase on the table. He stocks the mini fridge and pulls a set of watercolour pencils and a sketchbook from one of the bags. Seating himself by the window, he sketches the Edinburgh skyline, with the castle in the distance. He whiles away a few hours, intricately colouring the buildings he sees, lashed by rain. It’s quiet up here, and calm, with the rain hushing against the window. His past can’t touch him here.

‘I bought coffee,’ Natasha’s voice breaks Steve from his contemplation, and he twists in his seat. ‘Oh, those flowers are gorgeous. Here.’ She sits across from him, her hood pulled up against the cold and wet outside. ‘Caramel Americano with whip, you’re welcome.’

‘Perfect. So where did you run off to, Romanoff?’ He leans across the table, eyes twinkling. ‘I was beginning to think you ditched me.’

‘Oh please.’ She pulls down her hood, revealing a pale blonde bob. ‘Do you like it?’ He wonders what that might mean, and nods.

‘Love it. You look good anyway.’

‘Yeah, well. Blondes have more fun, right? You’d know.’ She leans in too. ‘I mean, apart from being an old man. If you’ve forgotten how to have fun, this is gonna be one boring vacay. We gotta make it convincing, Rogers.’

‘Careful, Romanoff. Less of the ‘old man’. I know how to have fun, okay? As for making this convincing, the hotel room was your idea. I was press-ganged.’

‘You were not!’ She gasps indignantly, sitting back and crossing her arms. ‘You got in the car with me, Steve, you chose this!’ She begins to laugh, and so does he, standing and moving towards her before picking her up in a bear hug.

‘You came looking for me,’ he murmurs into her hair. ‘I didn’t think anybody would. Thank you.’ They break apart, his blue eyes full of gratitude and sadness.

‘That reminds me,’ Nat says to break the moment, ‘I need to call Sam. I told him I was looking for you.’

‘No, don’t.’ He reaches for her shoulder when she turns away and turns her back to face him. ‘Not yet.’ There is a silence, and she smiles. It’s all he needs. Cupping her face in his hands, he leans down to kiss her, soft and true, and forgets who he was before now, in this moment.

‘I feel most myself with you,’ Natasha whispers when he lets her go. ‘I kinda like that.’

‘Me, too.’


	2. The Avengers Don't Want Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Steve lay low, giving themselves room to breathe.

Natasha wakes to an empty room. It takes her a second to recognise that the weak sunlight is not filtering through her New York bedroom window. The pale grey behind her eyes is too insistent to ignore, so she opens them and spots the colourful explosion of flowers Steve had bought the day before. She climbs out of bed, smiling as she remembers how Steve had insisted she have it; she had pointed out that there was plenty of room. He agreed reluctantly, and insisted they sleep in pyjamas. She’d laughed at that, but complied.

She stands in red satin now, watching heavy rain lash the windows and turn the city into a blur. Crossing to Steve’s open sketchbook, she admires his work, the delicate, meticulous detail and obvious care he took with it. There’s a note next to it. ‘Gone for coffee. Don’t go anywhere. Rogers.’

Her phone buzzes. Swiping it from her bag, she knows who it will be before she sees. ‘Where are you? Don’t tell me you went off with Rogers. Don’t be stupid.’ She sighs, and ignores it.

‘I don’t need this today, Stark.’ Instead, she rolls out her yoga mat and stretches by the window, savouring the early morning and the sleepiness of the hotel.

‘I’m back,’ Steve says. Natasha looks up from a stretch and grins at him, gracefully rising to her feet and crossing to give him a hug. She senses he is aware of a change between them, since he kissed her; his eyes are lit with something she didn’t see before. She takes her coffee and sits crosslegged on the bed, watching as he shrugs off his coat and hangs it up before turning to her.

‘You kissed me.’ He watches her calmly, then sits down at the table, folding his hands and resting his chin on them.

‘I did. Nat, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-‘

‘Didn’t you? It sure seemed like it to me.’

‘I mean, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable so I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just-‘

‘I let you, Rogers.’ Natasha raises a brow, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. ‘If I didn’t want you to kiss me, you’d have been knocked on your ass.’

‘So what do we do now?’ His look is sincere and intense, and she finds herself blushing.

‘I dunno. We’re in a strange city, in a strange country, sharing a hotel room on the run from the law. What would you do in that situation?’

‘I’d try to have as much fun as possible.’ He smiles, softly. ‘The world out there doesn’t want us. The Avengers don’t want us. So maybe we should stop caring for a little while.’ Steve looks down at his hands. ‘I thought you and Bruce were-‘

‘No longer a thing, it didn’t work out. I was basically his therapist and he doesn’t know me like you do. Besides, you’ve kissed me before, so what’s so different this time?’

‘That was different. We were undercover.’

‘Aren’t we now?’

‘Yes, but-‘

‘But?’

‘Dammit Natasha, this is serious. We’re on the run, again. They could throw us in jail.’

‘They could, but they won’t, because they’re not that dumb. Besides if we at least act like a couple, it will piss people off.’ She smirks. ‘You haven’t noticed the way people look at you, Rogers.’

‘Hmm and I’m sure you’re totally unaware of how awful you look in a bikini.’

‘The bikini thing again?’ She leans forward, baiting him. ‘Anyone would think you’d like to see me in one.’

‘I have, remember? In Hawaii.’ He raises a brow, a playful look in his eye. ‘Hated it, it was terrible.’

‘Oh, I remember that. I dragged you on vacation so you’d chill on the Bucky front for a hot sec. That was a good time, and you even got a lead.’

‘True, true.’ Steve sips his coffee, watching her.

‘Tony texted me.’ Steve scowls and sighs. ‘He said he hopes I haven’t gone off with you.’

‘What did you tell him?’ He stands, suddenly looking angry. ‘Natasha. What did you tell him?’

‘I didn’t tell him anything!’ Her voice rose and she stood, glaring. ‘I ignored it.’

‘You know your phone probably has a GPS tracker. Turn it off.’

‘I’m sorry, what?’

‘You need to turn it off. Please. He can’t find us here.’

‘He won’t come here, Rogers. We’re safe.’

‘Just. Do it. Please? Look Natasha I just want-‘

‘To be a controlling asshole, it sounds like!’ He reels back as if physically stung by her words, staring at her in shock.

‘’Tasha, I didn’t mean that. C’mon. This is me.’ He sounds hurt and angry, and Natasha glowers at him. ‘Don’t be so stubborn.’

‘Fuck you.’ Something changes. The room becomes almost unbearably small as they stare at one another, and she can see he is resisting something. When he speaks, his voice is low, husky even. Natasha shivers.

‘Do you want to?’ She knows he’s waiting for her consent. Waits for several long, agonizing moments while she thinks it over. His blue eyes are open with a vulnerability she has seen before, when he is speaking the truth. She knows it’s reflected in her own expression.

‘Yes, actually,’ she says. ‘I do. But be gentle, I like you when you’re sweet.’ He smiles then, shrugging out of his vest and jeans while Natasha watches, drinking in the hard lines of his body as he strips. She lets him tug the satin from her body, kissing her hungrily as he does. Gently, sweetly, he moves to cover her, soft mouth finding her pulse as he slips inside her, slow, almost teasing.

‘’Tasha,’ he murmurs against her skin and she buries her hands in his golden hair as he moves, biting her lip on a whimper. ‘Sweet girl, lovely girl…’

‘Steve,’ her voice is a breath, her hands slipping to the muscles of his back and pressing him down to her for a long, lingering kiss. ‘Why didn’t you do this years ago, damn it?’


	3. Captain Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Steve lay their history bare, and write something new.

‘’Tasha…’ Steve’s voice coaxes her from sleep, and she cracks open an eye, cat-like, and peers at him. He gazes at her, eyes cool and changeable as dusk in the low light. She glowers at him, sleepily, then rolls over to look at the clock. She has no time to savour the naked slip of her skin against the sheets before she turns to him again.

‘It’s 3 AM Steve.’

‘I know. I know…’ His gaze softens, moonlight laced sapphires in the blackness of their room. He sighs, gentle warmth against her neck. ‘I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.’ They lapse into silence. She feels the ghost of his lips.

The room is grey and Steve is gone again, no note this time. She sighs, opens the text from Tony and replies, finally.

‘I am with him. I believe in him, Tony. But you’re my friend. I believe in you too.’ It’s only seconds before she gets a reply.

‘But you love him.’ She puts her phone down, a lump in her throat. Do I? She closes her eyes, remembers Sam’s house and Steve before her, and the truths spilling from their lips. I trust him. Is that love? He trusts me. She crosses to the window, still naked, and cracks it open. The freezing air plays across her skin, raising gooseprickles.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Yes you do.’ Do I?

‘I’ll be back soon.’ He doesn’t reply. She sighs, and calls Sam.

‘Hey, Nat. You find him?’

‘Yeah. We’re in Scotland. I don’t know how long, but I’ll let you know.’

‘You sound sad, Nat. Are you okay?’ She almost tells him.

‘I’m fine. Talk soon.’

‘Alright. Take care.’ He hangs up, and the silence is heavier than ever. She gets dressed in cobalt blue and leaves the hotel room, trying to occupy herself. She is convinced he is gone for good. It’s dark and cold and wet by the time she gets back, her feet aching, her heart heavy. There is music playing when she reaches the door. She pushes it open, the strains of a love song getting louder as she walks in the door. It’s nothing she expects him to listen to, in truth.

‘’Tasha.’ He stands, turning his whole body to her. ‘I thought you’d left.’

‘I thought you had, too.’ She smiles, sadly. ‘Guess I had you wrong.’

‘That dress,’ he says in response. ‘I bought you that dress.’

‘You did. Captain blue, you said. It was hilarious.’ She closes the door and moves into the room, hesitant. ‘You scared me, you know. Don’t run off like that.’

‘I scared myself.’ He shrugs. ‘With how much I-‘ He trails off, a blush colouring his cheeks.

‘What?’ She looks up at him through her lashes. ‘You can tell me, Steve.’ The corner of her mouth lifts slightly. ‘We’ve saved each other’s lives more than once. Surely there are no secrets at this point?’

‘I wanted you so badly,’ he says finally, voice low. ‘Natasha.’ He stands up now, seemingly unable to stop himself. He’s toe to toe with her in a single stride, his hands pressing her back into the hotel room door, mouth hot and insistent on hers, a growl of desire in his throat. She gathers his shirt in her fists and kisses him back with as much passion as she can muster, her hands dragging through his hair as he holds the back of her head, her hair in his fist. They finally break apart, chests heaving, and she sees the clear want in his eyes.

‘Turn around.’ It’s a command, and she complies, shivering deliciously as he unzips her dress, slow and teasing.

‘Damn it Steve just-‘

‘Just what?’ His voice is an amused purr in her ear, and she feels him drag his teeth across her skin.

‘Just fuck me already!’ Steve almost tears the dress from her body before he flips her over again, slamming her back into the door. She gasps, whimpering as he drags his nails down her jaw and neck, bending to suck at the welts.

‘I want to hear you,’ he says, splaying a hand across her throat to feel her heart against his fingers. Before she can process that, he sheds his clothes and slams inside her, pulling a scream from her lips only to steal it with his own. He thrusts again, deeper, and savours the feel of her screaming into his mouth. She claws at his back and he lifts her up, almost brutal in the way he’s sating himself in her.

‘Steve- holy shit- FUCK!’ His mouth falls to her breast, sucking a bruise that blooms immediately, then another, and another, and another, up to her collarbone and her neck, his teeth pulling on her bottom lip. He groans with effort and she can hardly believe this is the same man as last night. His hands grip her hips so hard she knows his fingerprints will be there in the morning, fucking deeper, deeper, deeper again-

‘Fuck, Natasha- I’m-‘

‘Do it,’ she says breathlessly. It’s stupid, and reckless, but she hardly cares, not now. ‘Do it- Steve, god-‘ He buries his face in her neck as he comes inside her, groaning against her skin, and she can’t hold on. She screams, barely registering his whispered encouragement.

‘Fuck, I love you Natasha. I love you. God help me, I love you.’


End file.
